Gavinrad the Dire
by hopaldopal
Summary: The unheard tale of Gavinrad the Dire, human Paladin of the silver hand. And how he became the first undead paladin.


Gavinrad the Dire

Chapter 1

And upon the Silver Hand, his torment stood, and stole from me the world I loved. Sent to the depths of darkness where I battled against the Light. My beloved Light. I swore in those final moments that not even the cruel hand of death would hinder my loyalty of the Light. I lay there cold, with the aphotic hand of death bringing me further and further into the abyss of shadow. I spent my final breaths to envoke wrath upon his tenebrous soul.

_"I cannot believe that we called you brother! I knew it was a mistake to accept a spoiled prince into our order. You have made a mockery of the Silver Hand!_

Even those words would not reach his heart, for it was defiled beyond repair. As the darkness took me, his bitter laughter filled my last thoughts, and I surrendered to it. With the last of my sight, the cold steel of the great rune blade pointed at my still, mortal shell. From within the depths of this weapon, a sinister essence appeared. As the blue light shrouded my broken body, engulfing the tortured fragments of my soul, I felt myself being torn into two.

Rain poured from the sky, and yet my body was numb to it's caress. Agitation swept over me. It's grasp clutching to the inner core of my being spreading like a plague. The world around me was cast in shadow and despair, and I layed stained with it's very substance. The Light was now gone from me, all that I stood for was replaced by a swelling rage that infected my heart. I was no longer a part of the mortal world. I was in a place where cold hatred and anomosity fueled only vengance. Defeat crept it's way into my mind, pulling it apart. My soul was severed in half, with the light and dark at odds. The curse of death was consuming all that I was. To enslave me, to become another mindless drone to it's call. My soul was disconnected from my body, and bound to this ashen world. There was no happiness or sadness for me here, only fury.

My mortal memory of Andorhal, of Arthas, was all that troubled my mind. Stirring, until I finally rose in a familiar place. A small plot of land clustered with gravestones, each worn and aged. Everything, even the hills that stood high on the horizon surrounding the graveyard, was saturated in hues of grey. A building of stone stood before me. One of the large colums that held the buildings structure had colapsed and broken not long ago. Between a pair of unlit torches, splintery fragments of the once imposing wooden doors hung within a shadowy portal. This construct was the very place I was sent to guard from the monstrocities of all the world. This was the crypt of Kel'Thuzud. The very thought of it was crippling.

I stared at the crypt and knew that the scourge that plagued its walls was no longer incorcerated with its barrier . I knew why Arthas had come, his cold blue eyes were no longer his own. My fallen comrades must be facing this same fate at which I am. Their lives taken by his hand were now here to walk the whole of Anderhol, slaves to his corruption. They were struck down by Arthas as well, but I do not see them. Maybe they are at a peace that not even the spoils of evil can reach. This I pray for them, and hope their existance is not shrouded in darkness as mine has become.

Looking around at the ruins that lay before me, I realize Kel'thuzud's true destruction to this once prosperous agricultural district. How could he unleash these monsters that now plague this land, how could he do this to the people of this town? I wandered upon the grey world, looking upon my new fate. Everything was where it was in the place in the world of the living. Trees hung high, and delapotated buildings were the only remaining memories of Anderhol. Everything was in ruin, and looked as if it had not been inhabited for centuries. My eyes shifted back and forth, embracing all of Anderhols remnants.

I felt eyes looming over my shoulder, as if something was watching me. I continued on walking through the once great town, and all the while I felt this darkness hover over me, trying to take the last of my light. I could not let go of the light, no matter how much it deserts me now. I stumbled upon my battered and broken body, and was filled even further with hatred. Looking down upon my corpse, I felt disappointment. Everything about the corpse in front of me seemed at peace. I was jealous of the serenity that surrounded it.

_How could I be so weak? _

Out of the corner of my eyes something stood in front of me, and I lifted my head to meet its gaze. The shadowed sillhoutte of myself stood enveloped in darkness. The peaceful corpse on the ground was no longer there, and in its place was this plagued creature standing before me. Decay started to sink into this corpse, and the meaty sections were losing their mass. I glared into the sunken eyes and took in this image, and shuddered. Everything about this image was my own yet the sinister feelings that filled me made me believe it was not my own.

_You're pathetic, you weak minded fool, _the dark figured whispered to me.

It's words rolled off the tounge with ease yet it seemed as if it strained to talk.

_ No, this is were you are wrong. I will not rest until I will once again become a son of the light. Do not fool me death, you will not sink your teeth into me yet. _

The words poured without thought, even though it felt that I was just trying to swindle this character. I believed these words in spite of the nubuleous stain that started to swell within.

The sky was filled with the same infectious murky lull that the rest of this place portrayed. I felt nothing, even with the windmills in the distance blowing, even with the rain pouring. There was emptyness in this realm except the rage. Again the creature spoke,

_You're pathetic, you weak minded fool. You hang onto a shear string of hope that somehow your Light will help you here in this world? Do you see any Light around you here? No, you know it to be true. Why do you hold onto hope when it was this faith that sent you here?_

The words sunk deep into the heart of me, and I knew them to be true. As much as the pain of knowing this to be right it would still not interfere with me staying loyal to who and what I was.

_Haha, you think that me being trapped in a world surrounded in this darkness will weaken my spirit? Even if faith deserts me, even if I must forever be stuck in the evil that is being created, I will still fight to preserve the strength, and honor of the silverhand, the Light, and life. _While saying this, I felt a weight being lifted, the rage that fueled me was slowly receading. I felt as if I was being reconnected to my world, the world of were I stood strong and withstood all obstacles. The darkness of my soul before me was now fading into the realm around me. I may have failed in the world of the living, but I will not fail again in this world, or the the future of my destiny.

The horrors of this reality I was in, began to fade, and blend together. The man I was becoming was being tormented by this incredible energy drawing me back. Fighting to resist, I could not refuse the pain that was shattering my soul. For if I fought this unknown power, I would surely be forever lost and gone to this world.

_What is this magic?_

I was swept up in a whirlwind of dimensions, and found myself, eyes unopened lying helpless upon the ground. A pounding was bursting as loud as drums in my ears. Unsure of where I was I tried to gain clarity. Around me there was much I felt, but I could not understand it. Breath spurt forth from my mouth and I gasped for air. I was trapped in this hollow shell without any knowledge of where or what was happening. My senses were not my own, I tried screaming out, I tried to call to anything but there was no replies. There was nothing, except the solitude of my own thoughts.

_ You called me brother once, and then you have forsaken that sentiment, now you will call me master, and you will never renounce this will serve me at any request I make, and you will never disobey my order._

I knew this voice, I knew it was Arthas, but what had been happening. Why was I hearing his voice, what was happening to me? I felt the restrains on my body slowly release me, and I opened my eyes. I awoke to find myself in a large chamber with architecture that I had not seen since my time in Quel, Thalas. The craftsmenship that resonated throughout, was no doubt the craftsmenship of the high elves. It was a circular chamber and in the center of the marble floor laid the well, that I had only heard of in stories My disoriented eyes searched for the betrayer that spoke these words.

_What have you done to me Arthas?_

He knelt down to bring himself closer and his hallow voice darkened these glorious halls.

Watch!

The decorated urn that was slung under his arm, was not simple but exquisite in all its construction. As delicate as it seemed, I knew this mere urn was not just some vase, but some relic containing something horrible. As he released this silvery instrument into the golden light of the well it fell to the ground. The magic of the well began to diffuse the urn until it brought forth ashes and decomposing remains. A blue electric blast exploded from within and in the brilliance of it, it began to reanimate and reform the remnants of the concealed foe.

_Rise Kel'thuzud_

I felt the pain of failure as the words came from Arthas's mouth. I sat there in shame as I watched this horrendous act take its once human mage was becoming a terrofying creature. This thing was no longer human, his distorted body had no skin or muscle, just a skeleton in its place. The bones were fused together by magic, and the purple tabard of the Kirin Tor was fashioned into his tattered robes with no remnants of its image within the gown. Chains fastened to his aura, and constantly moved around him, enveloping his being. A pleased look overcame Arthas, as the once golden sunwell was plagued with corruption and became black and shadowed. As kel' thuzud stepped out of the glorious well, the golden hue returned but the deed had been done, and riddled the spring with an evil affliction.

His body glided upon the marble floor and came to Arthas.

_Arthas the hour is now ours, and we must now free Archimonde. I know of a place in Alterac where the orcs of the blackrock clan are. They have a demonic gate there and we will be able to commune with him through this device. Any who stop us on our path there we shall make them part of this scourge army, and grow our numbers even greater. _

The pain ached in my heart hearing this. My body was finally allowed to be mine, I had felt the restraints lift off and I got up off the marble floor. Following behind Arthas and Kel'thuzud I heard whispers of why I had been in their midst. I was to become part of this legion, part of the scourge army . I fought the thoughts that entered my mind, for they were not of my code, my honor. With my new body, the desires I felt were not of the human nature, and it pained me with each moment to resist these urges. Looking down upon my decaying hands, I seemed to slowly forget how full they use to feel. Now they felt cold, and full of death, and as these hands were, that is what I was to deal, death.

The march to face the Blackrock clan had begun with Kel thuzud's awakening, and I was to be part of this horrible defiling of the Eastern Kingdoms. Walking out of the Sunwell plateau I saw the destruction Arthas forced on Quel'danas. I saw no survivors, and if there were any they were out of my sight. Even walking felt different for me now, I felt a lurching rigger type feeling. It overwhelmed my body, and made me feel slower at reactions then before. I knew now the extent of Arthas's terror and I had to obey it. We made our way through the destruction and chaos of Que'l danas. Each step I saw new found evil. The world that these high elves created was no longer glowing with the life of the well, but rather tinted by it. These new masters of mine, were joined by Tichondrius and the rest of the scourge army. I saw everyone of these fallen elves, human, whatever they were before, they were no longer now, and as I hated what we all were, I embraced them. They were what I was, a slave, and if we fought, or tried to resist it, it only brought us deeper into the nefarious curse that was our life.

Chapter 2

Night was falling upon my plagued body. Above my head I could see the clear sky full of stars. Usually I would of felt graced to see such a sight but it was just a nouissance. We had been traveling for a few weeks now in search of this Blackrock clan, and we were drawing closer to their encampment. All around me the trees were rustling from the tumoltuous wind, and whispering amongst themselves, or so it seemed. I couldn't be bothered with such novelties, nor did I want to be. Slowly I felt my mind weakening since I was changed, and the weight of it was to much. I cared little for the things that I once held with the highest regards, even these trees were like poison to me now. Upon the ground, snow puffed up and covered my shins, were the bones were seaping through. I felt nothing from it though, not the cold rush that use to send tingles down my spine, or the wet droplets as my warm skin melted the delicate creation.

Amongst the army of scourge I seemed like just another mindless drone, but I wouldn't be overlooked so easily. Most of these sad saps were nothing of their former selves, not by looks or intellect and I pitied these cretins. Remenicisng of how life was before, I realize how much of a fool I was, just like them. My life of servitude, of loyalty, to the Light and for what? To be forsaken in the end by the very thing I gave my life for. The betrayal of this hardship really made this world of scourge seem freeing, almost comforting.

Within the next days, the enemies lives would cease to exist. Turmoil struck hold within my mind. I had been conflicted on what to do regarding these tainted humanoids. Everything in me knew that above nothing else these creatures must die, and rot into there darkened abyss. I could not let these foes live to walk amongst this world knowing full well of their demonic presence that they inhabited. In these moments of deciding their fate it seemed that the familiar feeling returned to me, commiting me to ending there lives for the greater good, but it was only dwindled by the fact I knew who I must fight for. Back and forth my mind played to no avail, and finally through all the arguements I had to agree that there lives were forfit, and I would deal a swift death.

I needed to make haste in finding a weapon to protect myself. I would not be ill-equipped, especially dealing with their dark arts. I looked upon the army that faced my way, deformed faces, and bones protruded as far as my eyes could see. Every face I scanned over had the same dead stare into the night as the last. I could see one of them holding something in their hands that shimmered from the moonlight. Approching it closer it appeared to be what I was looking for. The silvery blade was sharp but it had seen some battle. The top of the blade had a nick in it that made its smooth edge jagged, and even more fierce. The leather encased hilt was nothing special, but overall it was a decent weapon. His sunken eyes pierced into mine, and my arms reached out to claim the weapon. Clutching the sword with all its force it resisted me, but I did not faulter, I seized the hilt. As I had pulled, the poor creatures fingers came with it, but it didn't flintch nor did it harbor any resentment towards me. This only proved that these were shells, nothing continued to walk through the snowy mountains of Alterac, and all the while undetected. The howling of the wind was loud, and even with an army marching it would not warn any foe of our presence.

Upon the arrival of the border of the camp Arthas lifted his arm, holding the rune weapon and pointed it in the direction of the camp. With this the fellow scourge charged, leaping great bounds landing upon the backs of the orcs that had been guarding the encampement. The sun was creeping its way over the mountaintop and a great horn sounded. From the huts came a flood of orcs, armed and ready for battle. Running towards them, I felt a surge of adrenaline and screamed as I brought the blade up to meet the first of these foes. I felt the hot spit of blood splash my face as I sliced through the creatures throat, with great ease. The weapon felt right in my hands, even in my current state my speed was not hindered. The force of orcs kept creeping out all the while the scourge drowning them in their sea of death. My blade kept swinging and one after another I had dropped this defiled enemy.

The battle waged on with no end in sight. My heart was fluttering and made me feel like I was human again. The sun continued to creep until it was within my view. Many of my comrades had fallen from facing the hand of these orc warlocks, but even as many had died more came to take there place. These orcs had no idea the horrors they were to face, and were unprepared for such an undergoing, but they still remained strong. I heard the calls coming from one of the orcs,

_Slay them all, these scourge are impure, and are not fit to be part of this world. We are the true force of the burning legion, and let us not fail our lord. _

His gutter speak of orcish filled my ears and the memory of learning that horrid language came back. For that I was pleased, because hearing his words filled me with rage. I knew that I must execute this orc, for I believed him to be their luteninet. As I ran to face this advesary my sword ran through the orcs that decided to cross my path. Approaching him, I thought that my tactics would catch him off guard, but he had caught me in the corner of his eye. His body was torn and cut from the battles with my fellow scourge, but even so he still retained all his strength. His eyes stared like daggers, and charged at me.

_Die you filth!_

My sword came up to meet his, and the clash of steel rang loud amongst the battle. Swing after swing was blocked and then retorted with a strike from the returning foe. His brute force was straining all that was in me. Feeling weaker, all I could do was meet his sword. Our weapons met up again and this time we both pushed at each others body. My strength was not nearly as strong, but I remained statuesque. With a last push he sent me flying back. Landing on my feet I had realized this is what I needed. Running in and out of smaller battles to confuse him, I waited until I saw my moment. I could not battle him head on again, or he would claim this pathetic life. With my breath, time slowed down and I saw another of my force had attacked my target. His eyes came off me and to the distraction. I saw my time to strike, and with it I lept behind the orc. I lifted the sword above my head and as hard as I could, struck down upon the orcs shoulder, severing it from his body. He swung around, and I dodged the weapon causing it to go over my head. I stood back up and swung my blade across the brutes chest, causing blood to spurt everywhere. The foe dropped to the ground. Blood gushed from his mouth as he gasped for air. His words were muffled, and soon he lay in a pool of his own blood, dead. I felt victorious, and continued to wage my anger upon these creatures.

Upon the ground laid causalties from both sides, but unlike our enemies the scourge would not cease in coming. They were greatly outnumbered, and knowing this they surrendered. I saw Arthas and the others coming from the back of this army with a pleased look on their faces. I felt this strange twinge of admiration for him, and shook that from my head as soon as it came. He came upon the last of the survivors and with his sword took one swoop across the line of enemies, and ended there lives. Seeing the power of the frostmourne made me lustful of it, and I desired to please that power. The sun hung high over our heads, and a red cloud of blood filled my nostrils. The smell of it gave me a thirst for more, but I fought the temptation. This battle was not to appeal to my senses but to restore the world, and berid it of evil.

Adrenaline was surging throughout my body. The bright sun cascaded upon the bloodied battlefield and I saw the awesome power of the scourge. I cleaned the worn blade with the sleeve of my shirt, and watched as it stained the white cloth tunic. Red began to cover and seap further into the threads and wrapped me in its color. The sea of red had me mesmorized, the very thought of how delicate it was and it could be mine for the taking. As the blade became clean so became my thoughts. With a shake of my head I cast them from my mind.

Memories flooded my head, memories of my mortal life, of the Silver hand, of my vows, memories brought on by this battle. The mixture of adreneline and blood reminded me of the battle I saw when I was a knight of Light's Hope , of the Silver hand. Tirion Fordring had sent me to guard the remains of Kel'Thuzud, his actions caused this. I died for a task that was beyond my reach to keep. He must have known that I wasn't powerful enough to guard the urn. Why would he betray me like that? As I walked across the blood soaked field I noticed something gleaming in the sunlight. My thoughts rushed back to the present, and I let my subconsious devour the realization of the truth.

Within my sights a great structure stood high upon the hill. The demonic portal that all this was for began to sound, filling my head with harsh noise. Kel'thuzud approached and spoke with the Lord Archimonde in whispers. Trying to get closer to hear what was being said I was stopped in my tracks. Arthas had commanded the scourge to retreat from their presence, so they may speak. I could not argue, nor could I disregard the orders so I went with the following away from the portal.

There I sat amongst the rotting bodies and fellow comrades of death. In my mind the thoughts of light and dark were at odds both trying to sway me back and forth. The power I felt in this new form, the desire that filled my head was more then I could bear. The smell of blood wafted into my nostrils causing me to swell with lust. The weapon in my hand felt as if it were attached, ice frozen to my arm. Battle and blood was all I could think of, it had been a couple weeks since my rebirth into this hellish existance and I soon forgot of loyalties and honor. Fighting within myself I knew I must bury the silver hand in a place that can never be corrupted, a place that could never be swindled to dark ways but I was unsure of where.

In the distance I saw Arthas meeting up with Kel'thuzud, smiles and whispers were spoken amongst the lords. The sun above our head was moving faster then I had realized and the day was on the verge of dusk. I watched as they finished their conversation and walked towards us. Awaiting our next task, the thirst of more savored my lips.

_A great victory has been won here amongst the blood and sorcery, you have proven that not even death can be stopped. I now ask you all to follow me to Dalaran, where we must claim the Book of Medivh and bring fear to those who face the armies of undead!_

Arthas's words resounded amongst the leagues of ghouls and zombies. I swallowed them up faster then they came and I needed to prove myself to him. I noticed that throughout the crowds none were alive like I, they were dead inside and out.

Trembling sounds of foot and hooves trampled the earth. The march started as the last words left Arthas's mouth. I followed closely to him and Kel'thuzud because I knew at least being close to them meant I wouldn't be destroyed or sacrificed like these other poor saps. He was leading them like lambs to the slaughter and I knew it. It was better this way, the less undead their were, the less evil that existed meant that the light could prosper. Day into day the march on Dalaran continued until in the third day we arrived.

Upon the Lordamere Lake sat the extravegant magical city, it was unspoiled and beautiful. The architecture of the citadels and houses were ex quisitely positioned and decorated, seeing this brought back my memories of life. It reminded me of Anderhol, and Lights Hope Chapel. This sight brought back the silverhand, and I shuddered at what I had become. Darkness illuminated my presense yet my mind was saturated by light. I knew that the wizards of Dalaran knew that evil was coming. They must have found out about the slaughter of the orcs. Below the city's gates sat an army of ten thousand strong and the numbers would only grow with the death of the citizens within.

Arthas picked up the frostmourne and pointed towards Dalaran, and as if a puppeteer he sent his puppets to their death. As the creatures lept forth they were inscinerated as they touched the magical barrier surrounding the city. A dark laughter filled the land as Arthas raised the frostmourne yet again, and this time from its tip came forth a magnificent blue light that began to swallow the barrier. Covering the outside of the city in frost Arthas took one swing of his sword and broke the barrier. The ground shook and the blow pushed many of the scourge in front of him into the barrier slaughtering them as they collided with the dark magic. His eyes stayed ice cold, and did not flinch with the death of his own army. I knew that at that moment, Arthas was no more then, he was frozen in darkness, and the light was completely gone from him.

Roars sounded, claws knashed, as the scourge lept forth and this time made its way throughout the city. The wizards and guards held there ground as the armies came together in a dark cloud of fury. The city's once brilliance but moments ago was shattered and so was my bubble. The rage filled me, the smell of blood and fear caressed my cheek and I could not heed her call. I watched as the dead plagued the city leaving it in ruins. Ashes and smoke, blood and tears covered the bodies of both sides. Arthas and Kel'thuzud finally made their march into the city. I followed close by, and made sure to protect them both. My sword was swift and righteous against all those who seeked to betray my masters. I felt myself slowly descended deeper and deeper into that which is the frozen throne of Arthas's treachery, and my loyalties remained to him.

Dancing in and out amongst the clusters of kill after kill, I found myself in a frenzy of darkness. My sword weaved a tapestry of bodies and death, as I made my way to the Violet Citadel. I no longer walked amongst Arthas, I marched forward to make a path for him. Arriving at the stairway of my destination I noticed how quiet it was here. It was as if this place was untouched by the aphotic hand of death. Standing there I felt myself get dizzy, and my head was swarming with unclean thoughts. The tabard of the silver hand filled my eyes and I felt weakened by its very thought. I didn't want the light to be tainted, I tried to keep her hidden deep, deep within my mind but this place was bringing out my light. Collapsing to my knees my head felt swollen, as if the battle around me was all put inside my head. I felt the pull of both sides tearing me apart. Moving closer I felt his presence, Arthas's power brought me back to the moment and I rose as he approached me.

_Ah, Antonidas what foolish magic this is, you think that this barrier will subdue me as it has with this undead creature. I'll show you true power._

Arthas grasped the Frostmourne at his side. The clash of the sword against the barrier sent sparks and screams into the air. With each strike the barrier froze and soon cracks and gashes began to appear. I knew I had to prove myself to him, I would not be passed over like another one of these scourge. I stood amazed by the power he possessed. What foe would be able to stop him? With the last strike of the sword the barrier came crashing down as a blast of hot light blinded my senses. I awoke shortly after to see Arthas already at the top of the stairs. Running up to aid him I saw the combat of magic against bronze flaring up. Antonidas powers were impressive but they were no match for the true power of Arthas. Approaching the top, a sight I would not of thought possible was portrayed right there in front of me. Arthas was on his knee, breathing deeply before Antonidas. The sight infuriated me and that fury fueled me to attack.

_Arthas how can a son of Terenas become such a corruption to his vision. You are the bastard son of the Light. _

His back turned to me, I plunged my steel into his flesh. Hot blood spewed at my face as a scream shattered my ears. In that moment my body was thrown to the wall from a powerfall explosion of arcane abilities. My body felt broken, as I heard the cracking of bone on marble. My eyes closed and I found myself in the black.

Chapter 3

The years that followed my ambitions and loyalties remained with Arthas, for we saw many battles together. Upon my encounter in the Violet Citadel my worthiness was shown in the actions of slaying Antonidas. From that moment on I have joined the ranks of the un-named scourge with units under my command. My time in this undead form has changed me in all ways of dark nature and once a palidan of the silverhand, set to guarding that which I now follow, I am Gavinrad the darkhand of Arthas, Dark Pallidan of the frozen thrown.

Within the halls of Zeramus, I stood in the shadows, an unseen force of nightmarish hell, cascaded in black the very air around me was putrid and vile. Zuldrak had become my home these past years, a sentiment of victories that shrouded this decreped body in further darkness. This world was becoming mine, and now I was in charge of my own minor army of scourge. The depths of who I was, was merging into the evil and chaos of what I had become. The powers I possed were of a rare brand. Unlike all these Death Knights, I carried with me the powers of light. Master of the Light, I bent it to my will. Forcing the purity and innocence of its very essence into turmoil and corrupting it to its very center. Keeping my vow I was still a follower of the Light, except that through my own spoiling, so to was my Light spoiled. Harvesting the souls that I damned to death, I cursed them to the same fate that I have come to, and with their deaths my thrist grew.

Word of Tirion Fordring's Argent crusades march was but whispers and murmurs, but as they are, whispers should never be taken lightly. These past few weeks I had sent spies into Icecrown near the ziggarots, and their chore should be heard back from soon, and with it I will take my army to meet Tirion's steel. Oh Tirion, once my liege and loyalties remand with this man, and how foolish I was to trust in him. He had sent me to guard the remains, and now all that remains is this dark hollow being of corruption. How I yearn to face him, and show him what true power, the Darkness can be. I have been planning and waiting for this moment. Through these tiresome years my numbers have grown and with it I appointed a select few to be lietenants of these scourge.

A knocking came on my oaken door and rang loudly in my ears.

_Come in. _

_My lord the accusations of Tirion are true. He takes a strong hold of men to reclaim Icecrown sir, _the words came from his unhinged jaw with raspy disgust.

_Let the lieutenants know that we leave tonight. Now be gone._

I turned my back to the decreped monster that lay before me and gazed through a window made of dark brick, that seemed decayed and tainted. The room around me which was dark and musty. It seemed to have a glimmer of hope that was sparked from his words. The moment had come, the allogations were true, tonight I begin my journey of revenge and justice. I would make Tirion pay, the way he made me; with his life.

As I stood in the room peering out the darkened window, the hills of Anderhol flooded me. How I remember the day so well, as if it were only but moments before the terrible incident that turned me into this horrible monster.

"Gavinrad; brother I need you to do a task for me. I believe you would be well equipped for this urgent quest. It is important to this realm, for the sake of all we stand that this mission be upheld to any extreme circumstance that may befall your way." His eyes were sullen and worried as he asked me, it's like he knew what was to happen. And there I stood before him, with my solemn dedication, not even bothering to think on the matter; accepting it like a fool. The memory of Light's Hope chappel, that moment with the world so sure, secure. I never thought it could end the way it did. His hope in me, his respect made me feel unhindering to any foe or challenge I could face. My hands were full then, they held my sword with precision and my sword fit so well between my fingers. As I held my hands out to take the beautifully crafted urn, Tirion said to me, " Put your faith in the Light, and all is possible." My eyes were not open then, but now even with them slowly falling to decay they are more open then they were when I had them.

Alone in my room I walked to the mirror in the corner, my skin was stretched tightly over my jutting skeleton. My once plump flesh was now decreped and bone peered through the skin. The armor I wore even seemed to big, even though it was formed for me. The dark colors of it made me appear even further plagued and dead. Grabbing the scabard that lay on the dark chest at the end of my bed, I hooked it to my Duskbat belt. Around my body seemed to eminate with a darkness. I glanced one more time at the hollow creature before me, and like that left this place to face my new fate.

Chapter 4

The world of which I had known, was but a dream away. Everything that I had sought to destroy was now in turn reflecting back upon me. It had been weeks since we left the tainted spoils of Zuldrak, and all that remained of the massive legion I commanded was now but bone and wasted debri scattered across the frozen wastelands of Icecrown. Here I stood, alone, without the power, without the masses, but naked to the horde of the Argent Crusade. Without hesitation again, I would obey, I would sacrifice my life for another. Around me the cold chill of this place left me hollow, even more so then I had become. I have been plagued before, plagued with despair, plagued with grief, but this new feeling. The feeling of defeat was new to me. Even when I was killed by Arthas and walked the grey world of desolation, I had hope, I had the will to survive. Now, all that remained was hollow defeat. Everything Arthas was, I had become.

Upon our station here in the snow covered lands of Icecrown, the Argent Crusade made sure to give us no leway, and left us devestated. Many days of battle, and this never ending power of this alliance, would not cease until we were all destroyed. During the midst of our last battle, through the masses I saw him, Tyrion. In that moment, even with everything I had become there was remorse, feelings I thought were banished from within the depths of me. Seeing this man, I swore to destroy didn't bring rage, or anger, it brought a calm serenity that I had never felt. The world of darkness was shattered around me, brought to its very demonic spoils and saturated in a wonderful calmness, that glowed brilliantly. Shaking my head to stop the obnoxious peace, I looked around to see the battle, the war around me. Without as much as a word to my soldiers I left, for I knew that it was folly to believe we could win. Alone I marched through the battles of scourge and Argent Crusade. I was but a shadow amongst them, watching the slashing of flesh and the clanging of steel. My pace felt slow, along with the madness around me, time was frozen as this place. Snow covered my feet and with each step an imprint was left. The air was thick with blood, and each inhail was caught deep in my chest. Again amongst the masses I spotted the man, I was so bent on destroying, as I watched his movements against the oncoming plague of death I was reminded of the beginning.

"Alright brothers and sisters, let me fill our cups with ale, then we may speak on more serious matters." Laughter filled the room, along with cheers as the words spread like wildfire into our ears. Tyrion always had a way of uplifting a mans hopes, and in this moment, he uplifted ours with ale. The small tavern in South shore was quant and smelled of cedar and alcohol. A smell I so long to encounter again. Around us the tables were empty, except a few stragglers in the room. Kelly the barkeep, with his moustache and accent was cleaning a mug with a piece of cloth. As Tyrion approached him, you could hear his voice carry to the end of the room, " What'll ya be having?" I focused my attention on the chest in the middle of the table. The presence it had was astonighing, thats what we all thought. As Tyrion returned with a round of ale for all of the table,Commander Mograine began to speak.

"We must keep this quiet, there are ears about and if this was to leak out our plans would be in ruins. I have heard whispers from the land of northrend, that it is lost. Many citites are disappearing by the undead scourge that are inhabiting us like a plague. These unfeeling, emotionless cretins must be stopped, and we must be at the ready to face them.

Tyrion knew the bitter truth of what he spoke, and interjected "_But Mograine, we are ill prepared as a Kingdom to withstand such an assault. What would you propose we do?" Mo_graine turned his eyes to the chest, "_ In this world we can not have evil without good, this is our proof of that_." His mangled hand reached towards to wooden chest, and unbuckled the lock. As he opened it, a dark crystal of purple mallice was inside glowing. It's very essence was poisoning the room with its corruption.

"_Don't get to close to it, I did once, and my hand is all the proof I need to show of its evil. I've had this crystal for the past 10 years, back from the Black Spire, one of the orc lietenants. Now seeing this, and knowing that in this world we have both extremes, there must be a crystal of light. If there is the, that is what we must use in order to destroy these undead legions." _

_"Nonsense Mograine, this must be destroy!"_ There was a brilliant white light, that was cast from Issilien's hand and was consumed by the crystal. Silence took us all, for we had never came upon such a device. Another spell was cast upon the demonic crystal, the holy power was yet again consumed into its darkness but light was shedding through. "By the light, could this be possible? Mograine began casting, and then the rest of us all began to smite this darkened crystal with holy light, and in those moments a transformation was overwhelming the evil, and light began to embody the rock. Mograine moved closer to touch the glowing light of this crystal, his hand claimed the stone and was healed. The mangled mess it once was, was now gone and all that remained was his hand unspoiled from its former malice. "Let, us never speak of this again. From this gem we will create a weapon a weapon that through us will cast down our enemies. And in it's wake all it will leave is Ashes.." Mograines words went through us all, and Tyrion was the first to reply, " The Ashbringer." That was when I realized the power of the Light, and I swore to myself that day I would never sway from my path.

Clashes and groans filled my ears, the world around me was slow moving. Debri and blood spraying everywhere. My steps were steady and unyielding as I approached Tyrion. These memories of before were flooding me, it was as if I was that dark crystal now, and the power of this man was changing me slowly into something else. I felt the dark armor of corruption being ripped away, and I was being reborn, naked in the light. Everystep was impossible, but I would not be worthy of forgiveness if I did not reach him. If I do not reach him I should just be cast down by another, for if I reach him then I will be able to die with honor. The last of my honor, the honor I had when I gave my life for the light, for the Silver hand.

It was dusk, with the sun slowly setting in Stratholme. What a wonderful city, full of life. The town was full of hustle and bustle, and here we sat in the church, the church named after Alonsus Foal about ready to say our vows. For we were the first to become members of the Silver Hand. It was the first four inducted after Uther the Lightbringer was appointed the first of the Paldins. This was the day I would become part of the Silver Hand. Through Lord Anduin Lothar's will I was to become a brother. The world was at odds against everything, and before we knew it we would be consumed in the evil. There I was in the church, under Uther's sword. "Gavinrad, brother of the Light. You have chosen a way of Justice, to uphold the ways of good and right. Through your hand you will deliever the ways of good to any foe of corruption and evil. You are the hammer that will vanquish all those who try to defile our lands, our people. You sacrifice your life for this cause, and upon your vows you will be forever inducted into the Knights of the Silverhand." As his sword touched me I spoke aloud, my voice not faultering and strong. "In the Light I will be, forever upholding its grace upon the land. I will be the righteous, when all those have become the weak, and be the shepard to guide the lost. Through darkness I will be the beacon who brings hope, when the candles burn out I will be the flame. I will never cease to follow the ways of good, and right. My life is now to uphold the Light, and die for its name. In this world and all others, I will forever be entrusted to the Light, a brother of the SilverHand, a knight of Justice, a King of peace." The blade moved from one shoulder to the other as my words faded into the walls of the church. "Arise Gavinrad the Dire, Knight of the Silverhand." As my knees filled with joy I stood tall amongst the others. As I rose a tabard was placed upon my shoulders. I put on the garment, the honor I felt, I now had my purpose.

As I approached Tyrion, I knelt to the grounnd before him. His sword was clashing amongst another scourge and his back was turned to me. I began to whisper, "In the Light I will be, forever upholding its grace upon the land. The scourge's life was claimed to the Light, and Tyrion turned to me. I put my head down, allowing for a clean death, I would die with honor. "I will be righteous, when all those have become weak, and be the shepard to guide the lost. The sword was enclosing in upon my crown. "Through the darkness I will be the beacon who brings hope, when the candles burn out I will be the flame." Every second I could feel it moving closer about ready to strike. The power in the blade was overwhelming me, and my breath became weak yet I still continued. "I will never cease to follow the ways of good, and right. My life is now to uphold the Light, and die for its name. In this world and all others, I will forever be entrusted to the light, a brother of the Silver Hand, a knight of Justice, a king of peace." The blade was on the back of my neck with the last of my words, but it had stopped there. Around me began to glow, it was the same as Arthas had done to me. It was blinding but fear was not in me. I had come to meet my fate with honor, and this was my end. "Gavinrad, brother, what has become of you? Arthas' corruption knows no bounds, I free you from his spell." Tyrion pulled the sword away from my neck. In the midst of all of this, upon the ground I collapsed.

I awoke but moments later to find Tyrion battling the ever coming scourge. My body was no longer heavy. The darkness that inhabited my body was decayed and left in ashes upon the ground. Rising from the ashes I was reborn in the Light, and that moment I unleashed my vengence upon the scourge, Gavinrad the Dire, Undead Palidan.


End file.
